


When the Dealing’s Done

by Jantique



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could Danny afford to buy the gorgeous and not-cheap Camaro when he was so broke? Well, he didn't--buy it, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Dealing’s Done

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered how Danny could afford the Camaro. One possible explanation.

Steve and Danny were driving home in Danny’s Camaro after a long, but ultimately successful, day at work. Steve was driving, of course. During a lull in the conversation, Steve said, “You know, Danny, I’ve always wondered—”

 

Danny was just a little wound up after aforesaid long day, so he cut Steve off at the knees.  “You _always_ wondered?  What, your mind is churning, 24/7; you cannot eat, you cannot sleep, you are _wondering_? Is this, like, ever since you were a little baby SEAL or just since you met me?”

 

Steve hastily cut in, “Yes.”

 

Danny was taken aback. “Yes? What, yes?”

 

“Yes, ever since I met you. And I can eat and sleep perfectly well, I just _sometimes_ , _occasionally_ , wondered.”

 

Danny was deflated. “Okay, fine. So what were you occasionally wondering?”

 

“This is a nice set of wheels.” He waved his hand, indicating the car. “When I met you, you lived in what everyone agreed was a shithole of an apartment, you were broke—but you had a nearly new Camaro. Now I know that housing is expensive on the islands, but so are cars. So….”

 

“So … how did I get it?” Danny finished for him. “I tell you what, Steven. Since we are practically home, why don’t you bribe me with a couple of cold ones, and I will tell you the whole sordid story.”

 

Steve grinned. “Deal!”

 

A few minutes later, settled on the lanai, a brave start made on the beers, Danny prepared to tell his story.

 

“When I first came to this, um….”

 

“Pineapple-infested hellhole,” Steve helpfully supplied.

 

“Thank you.” He leaned over to give Steve a kiss. It was always good to reward helpfulness.

 

“Anyway, I was broke. After the divorce, I had nothing in the bank, and it wiped me out to come here. When I got here I was living in, you will not believe it, an _even worse_ shithole apartment, buying a car was out of the question. I had to take the bus everywhere. When Meka and I went out on calls, we always took his car. And _of course_ Rachel wouldn’t allow Grace to go on a public bus, because who knows what kind of degenerates you meet on buses—I’ll tell you what kind, the poor kind!—so I had to pick her up in a taxi! Those cost an arm and a leg! There went my pitiful savings. Life was not good, my friend, not good at all!

 

He paused for dramatic impact, and to take a reviving swallow. Steve prompted, “And then?”

 

“And then,” Danny waved his bottle, “salvation came in the most unlikely of forms—you will not believe this, but I owe my car to: Step-Stan!”

 

Steve was nonplussed. “Step-Stan gave you the Camaro?!”

 

“No, no, of course he did not _give_ me the Camaro; what are you, crazy? He _enabled_ me to win it.”

 

“Win it.”

 

“In a truly remarkable display of finesse, skill, dexterity, daring—in short, a poker game.”

 

Steve smirked. “You won it in a poker game!”

 

Danny smirked back. “Yes, I did indeed.” He took another pull of beer and settled in to tell his story.

 

“Apparently, Step-Stan knew this guy, Henry Gondorff,  who was running a high-stakes poker game, of dubious legality. Very small, exclusive, invitation only. Business associates, not for tourists. And Stan knowing his limitations, apparently he can’t bluff for shit, he declined the invitation. But also apparently, Rachel had told him about my poker nights at the precinct. He knew I was broke, and I think maybe he felt bad that she was acting like such a bitch to me then, so out of the kindness of his heart, he got an invitation for me to play.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Steve interjected. “If you were so broke, how did you get the money for a stake?”

 

Danny looked abashed. “I had a few hundred in the bank and … I borrowed a thousand from my parents. I’m _good_ , Steve. I knew I could win it back. Anyway, the game proceeded and I did well, very well. I lost a few pots, of course, but I always seemed to win the big ones. Finally, hours later, I had a big pile in front of me, maybe 20K, and the host, Gondorff, pulls a pink slip out of his pocket and says to me, ‘Listen, _haole_. I got a one-year-old Camaro here. I just took possession this morning. Prime condition. One more hand. All in. Either way, you leave and don’t come back.’

 

“He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good for my health if I did! That hand was just the two of us, all in. Draw poker. He had a full house, Jacks over sevens. I had…”  He stretched out the moment. “….four fours.” He beamed triumphantly.

 

Steve laughed, and gave Danny high fives. “That definitely calls for another beer,” he declared.

 

“Why, thank you, Steve. And that is the story of how the Camaro and I got together.”

 

“In fact, I think this wonderful story calls for a celebration.”

 

“A celebration, you say?”

 

Steve stood. Reaching out a hand, he pulled Danny to his feet. After a celebratory kiss, with tongue, he murmured in Danny’s ear, “I think we should go upstairs and … _celebrate_.”

 

“Mmm. You have the best ideas, McGarrett.” Arms wrapped around each other, they went upstairs to _celebrate_ , not forgetting to bring the beer.

 

 

And this is the part of the story Danny never knew:

 

The morning after the memorable poker game, Henry Gondorff received a phone call. It went like this:

 

“Good morning, Mr. Edwards … It went like clockwork, piece of cake … Yeah, the money and the Camaro …No, he never suspected a thing. Hey, no one suspects cheating when they’re winning, right? … No, your word is good enough for me. Just mail me the check … Can I ask you something? You couldn’t just give him the car? … No, I know the type, too much pride … I always say, what your wife doesn’t know won’t hurt you, am I right? … No, I won’t mention it to a soul. Scout’s honor … Well, no, I wasn’t, but don’t worry about a thing … Happy to help. Anything I can ever do for you … Sure, see you, give my love to the missus … Bye.”

 

 

END

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Points to anyone who recognized Henry Gondorff’s name! That was Paul Newman’s role in “The Sting”.


End file.
